All the Broken Pieces: (Broken Series Book 3) (36 page)

Funny how much can change in the span of a few months.

When it was just the six of us, we all gathered at the bullshit table like we had before. Talia and Spencer told us hilarious tales of their research on gender announcements, which were apparently a popular new thing for expecting couples. Some of the reveals were hilarious, some just plain wrong. It was like the pregnancy announcements but far, far worse. Seriously, some of the ones they described made me fear for those unborn children.

Ali gave me a rundown on all the exciting events from around town and gave me the gossip from the diner, mostly accounts of arguments among the older crowd who had just left. They tended to be hot-headed sometimes, and it usually ended up being solved in the maturest of fashions.

They threw shit at each other.

Not kidding.

There was still a pickle slice stuck to the ceiling in the far corner from one of their famous brawls.

Ford guys versus Chevy guys.

Every. Damn. Time.

It was infuriating and hilarious in equal amounts.

It was home.

We wrapped things up and cleaned up the mess, the four of them heading to their shared cabin as Brant and I set off for my house. Well, Teach’s house. Or rather Marilee’s house now, I supposed.

No matter whose it was, it was home. And I wasn’t letting Isaac scare me away from it anymore.

Brant walked me inside, after making me sit in the truck while he walked the entire perimeter of the house to check for footprints in the flowerbeds or trampled flowers or whatever the hell he thought he would find. When he was satisfied that no one was lurking in the bushes, he returned to the truck and helped me with my bags.

I unlocked the door and watched Brant go through the surprisingly complicated process of deactivating the new alarm. Great. I’d need him to draw me a freaking map just to get in and out of here without setting it off. Although, I had to admit having the cameras linked to my phone was a handy little feature. I could lie in bed and monitor every camera and every access point in the house without moving a muscle. One less worry, and for that I was grateful.

I briefly wondered if Bonnie had struggled with it and smiled to myself as I mentally pictured her cursing up a storm trying to get in to retrieve Mar’s stuff while we were all at the diner.

I took my things into my room, dropping everything unceremoniously to the floor at the foot of my bed, turning to take the last of the bags from Brant and catching that same look of worry in his eye. “Okay, Weirdo. That’s enough. You’ve checked the house yourself. It’s going to be okay.” I walked over and gripped both his shoulders as I rose on my tiptoes to kiss his soft, unsmiling lips. “Thank you for an amazing birthday. Both in New York and tonight at the diner.”

“Shit.” He snapped his fingers. “I need to go back to the truck. Time to practice setting the alarm.” He tugged my hand and set off for the front of the house as I protested.

“I don’t need the alarm for the thirty seconds you’ll be at the truck.”

“No, but you need the practice and I need to know you can do it quickly.”

“I can do it from my phone, if you would have let me have two seconds to grab it before you dragged me down the hall, crazy man.”

“You might not always have it in reach, like now.” He smirked as he stepped to the front door and waited for me to disarm the damn thing, watching like a hawk the entire time and making me nervous.

The unit beeped and I stuck my tongue out at him in defiance. “I got it, you turd. Now get out so I can rearm it.”

“Move fast because I’m counting to three and trying to jerk that door back open.”

“You’re impossible.”

“You’re irreplaceable.” He countered, absolutely serious. “If I’m ever going to sleep tonight—which is already highly unlikely without you in bed beside me—I need to know you can do this quickly and effectively. It’s important.” He gave me that damn wide-eyed puppy dog look that was sure to guarantee my compliance.

Dammit. Guilt trips all around tonight.

“Fine. Get your ass out,” I mockingly glared. “And maybe I’ll let you back in when you’re done at the truck. Maybe.” I emphasized the last word.

“Ready?” His hand was on the knob.

I nodded and he jerked the door open, slamming it shut behind him and loudly counting from the space directly beyond. “One! Two!…”

My fingers flew over the access panel and just as he hit three, the locks engaged and the unit beeped to indicate it was armed.

I stuck my tongue out at the closed door as he twisted the knob unsuccessfully.

A minute later, he was back. Tapping on the door as I stepped back out into the hall, having retrieved my phone so I could taunt him while watching the video feed.

He looked up at the camera, a huge, rectangular white box tucked under one arm. “Okay, now disarm and let me in.”

I drew close to the door, still watching him on my phone. “I’m not sure I remember how.” I called through the door pleasantly. “All this pressure to perform has got me all mixed up and I can’t remember the sequence.”

“Uh huh.” He quirked a brow at the camera. “You forgot in less than a minute. Right.”

“I might be able to remember if I was able to relax a while, get rid of some of this tension that’s blocking my thought processes.”

“Lauren…” There was a warning in his tone.

I sat on the floor with my back to the door, watching his frustration levels rise.

“Disarm the damn alarm and let me in.”

“I can’t concentrate. I need something to calm my nerves, I think.”

“Oh, I have something that will calm you, just let me in and I’ll give it to you.” He was playing the only card he had. Seduction. I had a card, too.

“How about a little preview?”

He frowned at the door and shot a look at the camera. “Huh?”

“Strip.”

“Lauren…” He growled.

“Slowly.”

“I’m not going to strip on your front porch. Your extremely well-lit front porch. Not. Happening.” He squared his jaw and glared at the camera, irritated. “And if you want what’s in this box,” he held it up. “Or what I plan to cram into
your
box, I’d suggest you open the door.”

I debated for all of two seconds before setting to work disarming the system. It wasn’t the gift I was after, it was the clearly visible erection he was sporting.

Damn, I should have tested out the zoom feature on that camera while I had the chance. Ah, well. Next time.

For now, I wanted the hands-on experience.

And my hands were on him the moment he was back inside.

•••

“It’s nearly midnight,” I muttered against his chest, sated and sleepy but unwilling to set a precedent he might take advantage of by letting him sleep over. Maybe in a week or two but not on the first night.

“I see. You’ve had your way with me and now you’re kicking me out. I feel used,” he joked, but didn’t make any move toward getting out of bed.

“Sorry, Weirdo,” I laughed. “I’ll let you use me and toss me out next time.”

“I’d never toss you out. You’d be in more danger of being locked in.”

“Hmm…” I kissed his chest. “Your willing captive.”

“If I had my way.”

“You just had your way with me, remember?” I teased, trying to keep the mood light as I pulled back and moved to get up.

He grudgingly did the same. “What if that was only the first half? Maybe I was giving you a little intermission before I went back to pleasuring you.”

He reached up from his spot beside me and tugged my hair back behind my shoulder so he could plant a trail of scorching kisses along my neckline. “Come on, baby. Let me stay and I’ll lick you ‘til dawn.”

“You don’t play fair,” I breathed, shamelessly pressing closer to his hot mouth.

“Don’t you want to get in the game?” It was his standard reply, and it had always worked. Until tonight.

With much effort and definite protest from my nether regions, I managed to get to my feet and remove myself from his grasp. “No more playing tonight. I need sleep and so do you. We’ve been on the go non-stop for days and we both have to go back to work in the morning.”

He huffed and pouted the entire time he was dressing, and then proceeded to grope and fondle me all the way to the front door, trying to get my willpower to falter. He really didn’t play fair.

The box sat unopened in the entryway, forgotten in the onslaught of lust that left us both panting and racing to the bedroom hours before. Brant reached down and scooped it up, holding it out to me. “One last present for the birthday girl.”

“It’s not my birthday anymore but I’m not about to turn it down,” I laughed. “I’ve seen how seriously you take gift giving.” I shook the surprisingly heavy box. “Wonder what it is…” I moved to open it but Brant held out a hand to stop me.

“Wait until I leave. It’ll be more special that way.”

“Seriously? You don’t want to see me open it?” Was he for real?

“Of course I do, but I also want you to have the freedom to explore this one on your own.”

“I knew it! It’s some sort of crazy sex toy, isn’t it?”

He barked out a laugh and reached up to give my nipple a quick pinch. “No way. If that was it, I’d be staying to help you break it in. But I like the way you think. Christmas is right around the corner…” He tapped his chin with one finger, thinking. “I bet they have giant, red-striped ones with twists on the end, specifically for Christmas.”

I quirked a brow at him, shaking my head. “You really are a weirdo.”

He shrugged. “Told ya.” His lips pressed to my temple and he leaned back to look at me, his hands rubbing my upper arms. “Good night, gorgeous. You call me if you hear or see anything out of the ordinary. Anything at all. Promise me.”

“I promise.” I lifted my free hand to stroke his jaw. “I love you. And thank you. I know this isn’t easy.”

He stepped over to the door, guarding his expression. “It’s never easy being away from you. But I understand. And I respect what you’re doing. You used to be half fragile, half fierce. Now though, you’re mostly just fierce and I’m so damn proud of you. I love you, too, baby.”

I moved to the keypad and disarmed the system, watching him leave. I was fighting back a surge of emotion at his words, so I let him go without comment and secured the house.

With a heavy sigh, I took the box to my room, plopping down on the bed and lifting the large, flawlessly white lid.

My heart leapt into my throat and my eyes burned as I lifted my gift from the pristine white tissue paper. A black leather jacket. It was supple and feminine, just like the one I had all those years ago, with several zippered pockets discretely placed in a way that set it apart from the biker variety. It was beautiful. The smell of leather wafted over me as I turned it over and over in my shaking hands. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. I ended up doing a little of both as I stood and went over to the floor-length mirror to try it on, even over my thin pajama shorts.

It was cool against my skin and fit perfectly, hanging at just the right length. Turning this way and that, I slipped my hands into the front pockets, and frowned as I pulled out a small slip of torn notebook paper. I stilled as I looked down at it, half expecting to see those same hateful words, hastily scribbled by the mother who hated me.

What I found instead was Brant’s boxy print.

‘I wish I’d met you years ago, so I could have loved you that much longer. You’re everything I ever wanted and so much more than I deserve. I absolutely adore you. My heart is yours…now and forever.’

Tears fell onto the edges of the paper before I even realized I was crying. My fingers shook as I read it over and over, thinking of all the ways he’d healed me these last few months. The things he made me face, the way he made me feel, how he paid attention to the smallest things, ferreted out every single hurt I still carried and found a way to heal it. He set out to mend every broken piece of me, and he was succeeding. I was blown away that I’d found someone who loved me that much, who saw me, the real me, under the baggage I’d been allowing to weigh me down.

I wondered if he knew that every word on that page, every sentiment he’d expressed… I felt the same for him.

Now and forever.

I fell asleep that night wearing the jacket and holding that note in my hand. I would carry it with me always.

•••

I’d like to be able to say that I slept like a baby, never waking, never scared, but that would be a lie. Around three in the morning, I came awake with a start and lie there convinced that someone was lurking outside. Rather than panicking, I grabbed my phone from the nightstand and remained where I was, quietly checking the cameras and refusing to give in to the urge to barricade the bedroom door. I may have stared long and hard at the locks that used to give me my sense of security, may have even debated using them all tonight and trying to slowly wean myself from them by eliminating one every night—or every week—as I built my courage.

In the end, I didn’t lock a single one. I didn’t move the goddamn dresser in front of the door. I didn’t call Brant like a frightened child. And I even refused to keep checking the cameras.

Nothing outside was waiting to hurt me.

Everything that I was afraid of was coming from the inside.

Inside of me.

I let fear and memories scare me and it was getting so damn old.

While I may not have been able to sleep, no matter how brave I was determined to be, I knew I could use this time to better myself. So, I went to work studying self-defense—thank goodness for the internet—and decided that I would finally take Spencer up on his offer of that fancy taser. I wouldn’t just try to be brave. I wanted to look at myself and see what Brant saw.

I wanted to be fierce.

By the time the sun came up, I was bleary-eyed from staring at the computer all night and so amped up that I almost wished Isaac would show up so I could kick the fucking shit out of him. What Brant told me in Kade’s kitchen was exactly right.

I wasn’t going to just get by. I was going to thrive.